I've been down in Buenos Aires for almost two weeks now.
In fact, I'm about to head home. But I feel like I should try to capture a few thoughts before I do. Here, I'll talk about the various dances I went to, and give my impressions. [update: I'm actually finishing this post months later. I write slowly.]
Milonga de los Consegrados (Saturday Evening, 4-10 or so)
I came to this dance my very first night in Argentina (and again a week later). I was hosted by Cherie Magnus and Ruben Aybar, who were delightful. The milonga itself was gorgeous: a large open space (an old ballroom or theatre, I think), with a buttery and soft wooden floor. It's a traditional milonga -- close embrace, full of milongueros, and occasional tandas of non-tango music. A mostly older crowd (I was among the youngest at 35). I had a great time! It's semi-formal with seating (men mostly one one side, women mostly on the other), but people were both friendly and flexible, and there were many mixed groups.
El Yiete
This was a popular place for some of the young professional dancer crowd. It's a bar with two floors; while I was there (the off-season) they had salsa below and tango above, though I'm told that when more crowded, both top and bottom are full of tango dancers. There's a small set of tables around the floor, with the bar along one wall; a nonsense video is projected at one end of the room.
Getting dances here took a little while, as people were more typically socializing with friends than really focusing on dancing; but I did have quite a few lovely dances. There was also a lot of great dancing to watch. Generally salon-style dancing, but good attention paid to available space (and generally a high level of skill), so there was little trouble with collisions. Not a friendly floor for beginners so much, though.
La Catedral
This was a very different venue. Inside a crumbling old place (perhaps actually an old cathedral), the inside looked like a cross between a yard sale and a dance floor. Tables and a kitchen against one end, an altar of junk at the other, with various pieces of art up around the walls. I've heard about some fascinating pieces of performance art happening here, though I only saw dancing. Dark, intimate, and somewhat grungy feeling. The floor was soft, with divots filled in by the sawdust created by wearing the floor down.
I saw an awesome chacarera here; a sort of mixed-play dance between three people, with attention swirling between the various pairs.
Random notes: be careful on the stairs, they have some metal patches that are slick on a wet night (One friend slipped and fell). Also, there was an open wi-fi signal, which surprised me when my phone beeped at me to let me know that email had updated.
Salon Canning
El Beso
Villa Malcolm
I don't have much to add to these places, but went to each a couple of times, and highly enjoyed them. Both Canning and El Beso have a pretty 'traditional' feel, with specific seating, and lots of Cabaceo. Villa MAlcolm was more relaxed, but I didn't love the set-up of the dance floor (it is hard to see from most of the tables).
La Viruta (Almost every day)
Viruta is always the last place left open, and so people end up there often (at least, people who are addicted to tango and want one more dance for the night). It's like a cafeteria, but dark and hot. I enjoyed it, although it wasn't my favorite -- the dim lighting, and size of the venue, means that it's very hard to catch someone's gaze from across the room -- you have to look to those nearest you, or try to walk around, which I prefer not to do.
Milonga de los Madres
This had just started when we went (it might have been the opening night, or maybe the second of them), at a 'revolutionary' cafe which featured information on the 'madres', an organization of women speaking out about vanished sons. (I'm not totally clear on this history, as my spanish was not good enough to totally follow the explanation we heard). There is a red and black color scheme to the place, and it was quite visually striking.
Perhaps because it was so new, there were very few dancers; however, the organizer (Laura) was very lovely to dance with, and the orchestra they had perform was excellent. The pizza was also very good.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
A Struggle to Teach
I teach an occasional tango class.
This has been true for a couple of years, as friends have needed someone to fill in, or wanted help with a particular topic. However, I recently started hosting my own monthly milonga in Bellingham (with a lovely partner!), including a pre-dance lesson.
It turns out (this is not actually a surprise, I have experience teaching other things as well) that teaching i hard to get just right. Aside from all the difficulties of communicating ideas clearly, evaluating student needs and progress, and planning appropriate or helpful lessons, I find myself with an additional, specific problem:
How does one deal with a drop-in, one-off class?
The drop-in nature is tricky, because the people who show up have a wide variety of experience and skill; the one-off nature is difficult because I can't really 'build' on what has happened previously; one hour, and that's all!
I think for myself, I have answered this question by focusing on basic technique, embrace, and listening to the music.
How does anyone else manage that sort of circumstance?
This has been true for a couple of years, as friends have needed someone to fill in, or wanted help with a particular topic. However, I recently started hosting my own monthly milonga in Bellingham (with a lovely partner!), including a pre-dance lesson.
It turns out (this is not actually a surprise, I have experience teaching other things as well) that teaching i hard to get just right. Aside from all the difficulties of communicating ideas clearly, evaluating student needs and progress, and planning appropriate or helpful lessons, I find myself with an additional, specific problem:
How does one deal with a drop-in, one-off class?
The drop-in nature is tricky, because the people who show up have a wide variety of experience and skill; the one-off nature is difficult because I can't really 'build' on what has happened previously; one hour, and that's all!
I think for myself, I have answered this question by focusing on basic technique, embrace, and listening to the music.
How does anyone else manage that sort of circumstance?
Friday, June 8, 2012
Que es mas macho?
Had a new lesson last friday, and it went pretty well.
Unravelled how I was leading a cross, which was forcing a leg extension by my follows: I was coming into the last step (together for me, cross for the follow) with too much energy, sending the back leg out and around.
Eliminating that extra energy, and focusing on closing with the right shoulder after the cross, there is now a very nice little pivot possible at the end of the cross. It feels nice!
After that, though, we tried to make my dancing a little less soft. I (and, as I'm told, many Americans) dance with a very soft style. 'Soft' is probably not descriptive enough, as it includes a lot of things: precision in steps, directness of movement, machones in attitude, walking technique ... as it happens, I don't dance a lot like an (mythic or idealized) Argentinean.
So I have been working on this a little, and it's hard work. I actually don't want to change entirely - many people like the softer style. I would like to have both available to me, though, as dictated by partner, mood, and music.
Lots of interesting discussion of technique, as well as videos of dancers here. As far as I know, the most comprehensive on-line source for Tango videos (well, except for youtube, perhaps) and discussion. I have tried before to walk more straight-legged, but it never seems to work quite right with my body.
Unravelled how I was leading a cross, which was forcing a leg extension by my follows: I was coming into the last step (together for me, cross for the follow) with too much energy, sending the back leg out and around.
Eliminating that extra energy, and focusing on closing with the right shoulder after the cross, there is now a very nice little pivot possible at the end of the cross. It feels nice!
After that, though, we tried to make my dancing a little less soft. I (and, as I'm told, many Americans) dance with a very soft style. 'Soft' is probably not descriptive enough, as it includes a lot of things: precision in steps, directness of movement, machones in attitude, walking technique ... as it happens, I don't dance a lot like an (mythic or idealized) Argentinean.
So I have been working on this a little, and it's hard work. I actually don't want to change entirely - many people like the softer style. I would like to have both available to me, though, as dictated by partner, mood, and music.
Lots of interesting discussion of technique, as well as videos of dancers here. As far as I know, the most comprehensive on-line source for Tango videos (well, except for youtube, perhaps) and discussion. I have tried before to walk more straight-legged, but it never seems to work quite right with my body.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Emergency and Intention
Emergency and Intention
I had a lesson the other day, focused on two main themes. First, and what I'll talk about here, was making my lead more inviting, by removing the emergency from my body during faster steps. Second, which I might talk about another time, was which exercises were going to be most helpful to continue developing my dancing and dancing technique.
I have a little of practice moving smoothly and comfortably to regular rhythmic tango passages. However, I often want to respond to or play with the music, in moments when its rhythm changes. When that happens, I frequently want to change the rhythm of my own steps, or those I ask of a partner. What I've been working on here is two fast steps together, followed by a pause (or two fast steps together following a pause). To the best of my ASCII skills, consider the following rhythms:
1. TA - - ta -- TA (Straight/Square rhythm)
2. TA ta - - ta TA (Syncopated Rhythm)
3. TA - - - -ta TA (Syncopated Rhythm, very characteristic of Milonga)
Rhythm 1 my body accepts as a completely natural motion at this point, and processes the intention I give to my partner naturally, with no real new effort from my body or mind while dancing. However, for 2 and 3, when I go to take that fast step, I tense up in warning.
Now, this tenseness doesn't make the dance suddenly terrible, or become hard to follow. But the tensing does cause two things: it weakens the connection to my partner, and because I'm tense I actually no longer step at quite the right speed, so I miss the beat just slightly.
Avoiding that tenseness has taken some practice. One help has been placing my body's emphasis on the second of the fast steps instead of the first. If I focus on the first step, I tend to over-commit to it, or move too far with my initial step, which will break the connection when I recover too quickly to reach the second step. Second, just repition helps; I'm getting used to the faster pace required, and now that I'm more used to it, my body seems to stay more comfortable during.
I had a lesson the other day, focused on two main themes. First, and what I'll talk about here, was making my lead more inviting, by removing the emergency from my body during faster steps. Second, which I might talk about another time, was which exercises were going to be most helpful to continue developing my dancing and dancing technique.
I have a little of practice moving smoothly and comfortably to regular rhythmic tango passages. However, I often want to respond to or play with the music, in moments when its rhythm changes. When that happens, I frequently want to change the rhythm of my own steps, or those I ask of a partner. What I've been working on here is two fast steps together, followed by a pause (or two fast steps together following a pause). To the best of my ASCII skills, consider the following rhythms:
1. TA - - ta -- TA (Straight/Square rhythm)
2. TA ta - - ta TA (Syncopated Rhythm)
3. TA - - - -ta TA (Syncopated Rhythm, very characteristic of Milonga)
Rhythm 1 my body accepts as a completely natural motion at this point, and processes the intention I give to my partner naturally, with no real new effort from my body or mind while dancing. However, for 2 and 3, when I go to take that fast step, I tense up in warning.
Now, this tenseness doesn't make the dance suddenly terrible, or become hard to follow. But the tensing does cause two things: it weakens the connection to my partner, and because I'm tense I actually no longer step at quite the right speed, so I miss the beat just slightly.
Avoiding that tenseness has taken some practice. One help has been placing my body's emphasis on the second of the fast steps instead of the first. If I focus on the first step, I tend to over-commit to it, or move too far with my initial step, which will break the connection when I recover too quickly to reach the second step. Second, just repition helps; I'm getting used to the faster pace required, and now that I'm more used to it, my body seems to stay more comfortable during.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Injured Shoulder
I pulled my shoulder last Sunday.
Perhaps ironically, I pulled it while stretching. I stretched a little too far, using my weight to lean into it, and I felt like I suddenly developed a little knot right under my shoulder blade. This knot persists, though I can tell it's improving -- I can now take a full breath without a twinge of pain.
It was that twinge of pain that prompted my post, though. I danced with a friend in my kitchen after pulling it on Sunday; I haven't been out to a milonga. While dancing, I would occasionally have a spike of pain from my shoulder. This created a difficulty: every time my shoulder spiked, I was jerked out of connection, music, and embrace. Indeed, quite literally, my embrace was hurting me. It spurred two thoughts.
First -- as a result, I had to focus extra hard on re-gaining connection after each spike. I wouldn't want to use pain for it, but something similar would make for good practice, I think. Songs that stop and start randomly, having to change partners or directions without warning, etc.
Second -- I think the ability to avoid causing moments like this (in either yourself or your partner) is one important role for focusing on physical technique. Not moments of pain, necessarily, but moments where your body feels awkward for yourself, or unclear for your partner.
I return to dancing tonight, and here's to better connection and re-connection on the dance floor.
Perhaps ironically, I pulled it while stretching. I stretched a little too far, using my weight to lean into it, and I felt like I suddenly developed a little knot right under my shoulder blade. This knot persists, though I can tell it's improving -- I can now take a full breath without a twinge of pain.
It was that twinge of pain that prompted my post, though. I danced with a friend in my kitchen after pulling it on Sunday; I haven't been out to a milonga. While dancing, I would occasionally have a spike of pain from my shoulder. This created a difficulty: every time my shoulder spiked, I was jerked out of connection, music, and embrace. Indeed, quite literally, my embrace was hurting me. It spurred two thoughts.
First -- as a result, I had to focus extra hard on re-gaining connection after each spike. I wouldn't want to use pain for it, but something similar would make for good practice, I think. Songs that stop and start randomly, having to change partners or directions without warning, etc.
Second -- I think the ability to avoid causing moments like this (in either yourself or your partner) is one important role for focusing on physical technique. Not moments of pain, necessarily, but moments where your body feels awkward for yourself, or unclear for your partner.
I return to dancing tonight, and here's to better connection and re-connection on the dance floor.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Excitement and Frustration
I spent a great weekend at the inaugural LA Tango Marathon. I traveled with two of my friends, and we proved to be good roommates and travel partners. Many in-jokes were created, and lots of laughter accompanied the trip. The dancing was great - I danced with many new people, for hours and hours. Music was generally excellent, I don't remember ever feeling let down by it. I also danced with people I have seen at other events, and it was fun to reconnect.
The marathon itself had one main issue: the floor of the venue was tough. It was very hard, and slightly sticky linoleum. It was also old: sunk in some places; rippled in others; generally not very nice. From about 1-inch upward, the room had been remodeled, and it was gorgeous: stained-glass-like painted panels in the ceiling, chandeliers, and high ceilings. My feet mostly lasted through the dancing, and I'm very glad I went.
While in LA, I took a private lesson. I have not done a lot of private tuition in the past; most of my learning comes from group classes, and time spent dancing. I also must admit to not a whole lot of practice time. Therefore - the lesson was hugely useful, in a technique sense. I mostly dance close, and my pivots lack a certain amount of technique or balance. They are just not something I perform very often as a lead. We also discussed some posture (always welcome) and leading changes, which I enjoyed (I might expand another time, but basically: incorporating thoughts of my belly as a leading tool). Apparently these changes were successful, as a regular partner immediately commented on them when I returned to Seattle.
However, the immediate effect was to make me feel hugely unsuccessful as a dancer: how could I think I have any ability at this, when there are so many basic, fundamental movements I still don't do well? It took me a couple of hours at the dance (and some very enjoyable dances) to shake it off. I think I feel this way in a lot of areas: when faced with an expert, I am reminded that I am not one.
A friend did tell me this, and it made me feel a lot better: "Your dance can always improve, but don't forget there are already a lot of people that love dancing with you." If you are feeling similarly down about your abilities, remember that this is likely true for you as well.
The marathon itself had one main issue: the floor of the venue was tough. It was very hard, and slightly sticky linoleum. It was also old: sunk in some places; rippled in others; generally not very nice. From about 1-inch upward, the room had been remodeled, and it was gorgeous: stained-glass-like painted panels in the ceiling, chandeliers, and high ceilings. My feet mostly lasted through the dancing, and I'm very glad I went.
While in LA, I took a private lesson. I have not done a lot of private tuition in the past; most of my learning comes from group classes, and time spent dancing. I also must admit to not a whole lot of practice time. Therefore - the lesson was hugely useful, in a technique sense. I mostly dance close, and my pivots lack a certain amount of technique or balance. They are just not something I perform very often as a lead. We also discussed some posture (always welcome) and leading changes, which I enjoyed (I might expand another time, but basically: incorporating thoughts of my belly as a leading tool). Apparently these changes were successful, as a regular partner immediately commented on them when I returned to Seattle.
However, the immediate effect was to make me feel hugely unsuccessful as a dancer: how could I think I have any ability at this, when there are so many basic, fundamental movements I still don't do well? It took me a couple of hours at the dance (and some very enjoyable dances) to shake it off. I think I feel this way in a lot of areas: when faced with an expert, I am reminded that I am not one.
A friend did tell me this, and it made me feel a lot better: "Your dance can always improve, but don't forget there are already a lot of people that love dancing with you." If you are feeling similarly down about your abilities, remember that this is likely true for you as well.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Visiting other places
I spent the weekend in Bellingham, and had occasion to dance with a roomful of entirely new people.
My dancing has always been in one of two places so far: Seattle or Portland. I have become quite comfortable with the group of people I regularly dance with in each of those places. Although I certainly dance with a wide mix of people, and occasionally new people (both new to me, and new to tango), the communities both have a solid sense of style to which I have become accustomed.
Both Seattle and Portland are heavily weighted toward a close, milonguero style embrace. I favor such a style myself, and therefore get along just fine. However, when I attended a dance in Bellingham, it was largely new dancers, and mostly open embrace. I was reminded how different a completely open embrace feels, and how the technique required changes. I was also reminded of various technique (axis, balance, intention) that I have let slip.
It was a fun evening, and I learned quite a bit. Thank you, Bellingham dancers.
My dancing has always been in one of two places so far: Seattle or Portland. I have become quite comfortable with the group of people I regularly dance with in each of those places. Although I certainly dance with a wide mix of people, and occasionally new people (both new to me, and new to tango), the communities both have a solid sense of style to which I have become accustomed.
Both Seattle and Portland are heavily weighted toward a close, milonguero style embrace. I favor such a style myself, and therefore get along just fine. However, when I attended a dance in Bellingham, it was largely new dancers, and mostly open embrace. I was reminded how different a completely open embrace feels, and how the technique required changes. I was also reminded of various technique (axis, balance, intention) that I have let slip.
It was a fun evening, and I learned quite a bit. Thank you, Bellingham dancers.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Gradual Improvement
I have made a lot of time for dancing lately. With that time, I have been improving again. My balance is better, and some nuances of connection in the embrace have improved. Instead of trying to lead broadly through my whole chest, I try to put intention into the actual point of contact (sternum to sternum, sternum to ribs, belly to sternum, whatever it might be).
Visualization has a surprising effect on physical performance. In the case of playing a musical instrument, some study has been made of the neural effects of virtual practice (imagining the specific practice activity) vs physical practice. The neural growth and connection in the mind after the period of training was very similar between the two groups. (The paper is here, and a description here).
Now, this doesn't directly carry over (although looking at whether visualizing better technique would improve it fascinates me), but of late I have been focused on visualizing the connection between me and my partner. Imagining some warmth there, which passes information.
It seems to help, anyway.
Visualization has a surprising effect on physical performance. In the case of playing a musical instrument, some study has been made of the neural effects of virtual practice (imagining the specific practice activity) vs physical practice. The neural growth and connection in the mind after the period of training was very similar between the two groups. (The paper is here, and a description here).
Now, this doesn't directly carry over (although looking at whether visualizing better technique would improve it fascinates me), but of late I have been focused on visualizing the connection between me and my partner. Imagining some warmth there, which passes information.
It seems to help, anyway.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Social Interaction
I spent last night in my living room, and yet it was a very satisfactory evening of tango. Two friends came by, one fresh off an airplane, and we made dinner, looked out over the city, and talked about life, tango, and the mix of the two.
I often find milongas and practicas lacking a strong social element. I'm not sure if this is particular to Seattle, but I suspect it is true to some degree everywhere. At least for me, a lot of the problem is created because I like dancing, and tango music drives me to the floor. It's very tough to maintain a meaningful conversation in 1 minute chunks every 15 minutes.
A couple of the dances here in town maintain a stronger social atmosphere: China Harbor, and Om Culture; they have more space dedicated to non-dancing, and seating that encourages staying off the dance floor. Perhaps not coincidentally, they are also my favorite dances currently. Social atmosphere is not entirely dictated by layout, of course; other dances here have fluctuated in terms of atmosphere, attendance, music, etc.
How do you maintain social connections 5 or 15 minutes at a time?
I often find milongas and practicas lacking a strong social element. I'm not sure if this is particular to Seattle, but I suspect it is true to some degree everywhere. At least for me, a lot of the problem is created because I like dancing, and tango music drives me to the floor. It's very tough to maintain a meaningful conversation in 1 minute chunks every 15 minutes.
A couple of the dances here in town maintain a stronger social atmosphere: China Harbor, and Om Culture; they have more space dedicated to non-dancing, and seating that encourages staying off the dance floor. Perhaps not coincidentally, they are also my favorite dances currently. Social atmosphere is not entirely dictated by layout, of course; other dances here have fluctuated in terms of atmosphere, attendance, music, etc.
How do you maintain social connections 5 or 15 minutes at a time?
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Tango and Intimacy
My girlfriend and I broke up about a month ago. In this case, a very amiable split. We still enjoy each other's company, and dance together when both present at the same dance. I am mostly reconciled -- I miss the time we spent being close, but no longer feel driven to push back toward it.
Melina Sedo wrote about sex in tango, and as I contemplate new romantic endeavors, I have been thinking about the trouble involved in dating within a community. Now, I don't think tango is unique in this instance: workplace and school are also environments where becoming involved with another community member can potentially be tricky. I imagine this is true of any reasonably small social group. Relationships of all types have trouble with dividing lives afterward, and determining new social boundaries. The smaller a group that is involved, the more interwoven relationships, expectations, and needs will be.
So, does tango present a unique problem? Informally, most people seem to think so. In talking with others, I generally hear 1 of 2 responses:
Second, tango creates intimacy for an extended period with a group of people. This creates feelings in many cases within the community ("Tango Crushes"), and can cause problems of time/intimacy sharing across the group. Equally, it can cause trouble with a partner outside the group ("Why do you need intimacy from all these other people?")
How do you manage the barrier between communities, the level of intimacy in dance, and the various time commitments?
(Also: it strikes my analytical side that there might be an interesting paper here ... considering a group of people with some characteristics, how does the size of the group affect the forming/breaking of personal bonds? Perhaps some sort of simulation, where you have some chance of interaction ... how do you measure group function/disfunction resulting from dating/breaking up?)
Melina Sedo wrote about sex in tango, and as I contemplate new romantic endeavors, I have been thinking about the trouble involved in dating within a community. Now, I don't think tango is unique in this instance: workplace and school are also environments where becoming involved with another community member can potentially be tricky. I imagine this is true of any reasonably small social group. Relationships of all types have trouble with dividing lives afterward, and determining new social boundaries. The smaller a group that is involved, the more interwoven relationships, expectations, and needs will be.
So, does tango present a unique problem? Informally, most people seem to think so. In talking with others, I generally hear 1 of 2 responses:
- (Minority) I only date tango dancers, because (not enough time, shared interests, social circle).
- (Majority) I never date tango dancers, because (too much time, outside interests, bad experience).
Second, tango creates intimacy for an extended period with a group of people. This creates feelings in many cases within the community ("Tango Crushes"), and can cause problems of time/intimacy sharing across the group. Equally, it can cause trouble with a partner outside the group ("Why do you need intimacy from all these other people?")
How do you manage the barrier between communities, the level of intimacy in dance, and the various time commitments?
(Also: it strikes my analytical side that there might be an interesting paper here ... considering a group of people with some characteristics, how does the size of the group affect the forming/breaking of personal bonds? Perhaps some sort of simulation, where you have some chance of interaction ... how do you measure group function/disfunction resulting from dating/breaking up?)
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Creativity and Expression
A friend of mine shared this lovely Milonga with me:
It is a very showy piece of dancing, not to everyone's taste, I am sure. I find it a wonderful milonga, and wish I had the creativity and control on display.
It is a very showy piece of dancing, not to everyone's taste, I am sure. I find it a wonderful milonga, and wish I had the creativity and control on display.
- As a show piece, I really like the lighting: in the background, you see their whole bodies; in the foreground, you see only knees down, making for an interesting contrast in focus. I don't know how much of that was intentional vs. a happy mistake of the available lighting, but I loved it.
- I am amazed at their creativity. Practically every 8 measures they change up what they are doing, displaying something new.
- The showy-ness does not hide underlying musicality and control. Clearly, these dancers know what they are doing (I have never met them personally, so I can't say directly). They are well connected with each other and the music.
- When the light shows their face -- they are smiling. They enjoy dancing with each other, they enjoy the response of the crowd, and they enjoy the music. And that makes for a good show.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Focus, Clarity, and Landing a Partner
My friend Ampster has talked about waiting for the follow to land, and how he uses that to dance. It sparked a chain of thoughts about my own process. My process is not very different really, but:
I always want to know where the follower has their weight. Why? Because a step taken when they are off-balance (or worse, have the wrong leg free) will break connection with the follower, and likely with the music. Maintaining those two things are my main focus (and the source of most of my enjoyment and satisfaction) when I dance. At least so far, the people I dance with seem to appreciate that focus!
This isn't to say that I test each and every step before I take it ... I don't. When I am doing a turn, I might do the whole thing in one smooth motion. I will make sure that my follow *is* ready for that first step, but for the next couple steps, I leave it to some mutual sense of when, how far, and how fast to take additional steps. I still influence this, of course, by using my chest to direct the movement, the strength of the initial pulse, and keeping my own weight moving through the step. However, the fine control of each step has become, to some extent, muscle memory.
The creation of this muscle memory has lead to nicer dancing. I no longer have to plot out the exact physical instructions for my body to create certain motions, I can think at a high level: 'A step in cross system out of this turn will feel good here', and can enjoy the sensation more easily than when I needed to focus on thinking 'okay, step 18 inches to the left. Twist upper body to signal to follow. Shift my own weight while follow is engaged pivoting ...'. I am exaggerating the thought process some, but I think the sense of it is clear?
This clarity in my own motion also frees me to focus on the follower. By improving my own technique, balance, and 'mind of no mind', I can pay better attention to my partner's weight and balance, and the music.
Hurray!
I always want to know where the follower has their weight. Why? Because a step taken when they are off-balance (or worse, have the wrong leg free) will break connection with the follower, and likely with the music. Maintaining those two things are my main focus (and the source of most of my enjoyment and satisfaction) when I dance. At least so far, the people I dance with seem to appreciate that focus!
This isn't to say that I test each and every step before I take it ... I don't. When I am doing a turn, I might do the whole thing in one smooth motion. I will make sure that my follow *is* ready for that first step, but for the next couple steps, I leave it to some mutual sense of when, how far, and how fast to take additional steps. I still influence this, of course, by using my chest to direct the movement, the strength of the initial pulse, and keeping my own weight moving through the step. However, the fine control of each step has become, to some extent, muscle memory.
The creation of this muscle memory has lead to nicer dancing. I no longer have to plot out the exact physical instructions for my body to create certain motions, I can think at a high level: 'A step in cross system out of this turn will feel good here', and can enjoy the sensation more easily than when I needed to focus on thinking 'okay, step 18 inches to the left. Twist upper body to signal to follow. Shift my own weight while follow is engaged pivoting ...'. I am exaggerating the thought process some, but I think the sense of it is clear?
This clarity in my own motion also frees me to focus on the follower. By improving my own technique, balance, and 'mind of no mind', I can pay better attention to my partner's weight and balance, and the music.
Hurray!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Confidence and Interpretation
I had a funny exchange Monday night.
Monday night, at the China Harbor milonga, I never felt on. It was a mix of losing my balance, not quite connecting with music, and losing connection with my partner. This part was not funny, but it happens from time to time.
Later in the evening, I was standing at the bar, chatting with some friends (followers, in this case) who made the exact same observation. One of them I had danced with earlier, but added that she really enjoyed my dancing for our dance, it was just her dancing that felt off. And I thought the same: that her dancing was quite nice, even if mine was off.
I guess if we could stop criticizing ourselves, we could just take pleasure from the fact that our partner enjoyed the dance. Not a new realization, but it keeps happening. I should try actually learning the lesson.
Monday night, at the China Harbor milonga, I never felt on. It was a mix of losing my balance, not quite connecting with music, and losing connection with my partner. This part was not funny, but it happens from time to time.
Later in the evening, I was standing at the bar, chatting with some friends (followers, in this case) who made the exact same observation. One of them I had danced with earlier, but added that she really enjoyed my dancing for our dance, it was just her dancing that felt off. And I thought the same: that her dancing was quite nice, even if mine was off.
I guess if we could stop criticizing ourselves, we could just take pleasure from the fact that our partner enjoyed the dance. Not a new realization, but it keeps happening. I should try actually learning the lesson.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Walking (or Falling)
One area I have trouble with is my walk.
I often lose balance after stepping onto my left foot, requiring a quick step onto the right to keep up. This is made much worse when I have a partner who has any tendency to lean/step that direction. Interestingly, I do not have any problem when stepping backward.
Last Friday morning, I was attending a meditation practice, and as it happened, the practice for the day was walking meditation. With 30 minutes of slowly walking back and forth, focusing on the physical sensations of walking, I discovered two things.
First, that pushing through the step is comfortable, and if I push my center of gravity all the way up over the ball of my foot, I have no balance problems with that step. I have tried to apply this while dancing, and am making some progress. Focusing on getting my balance all the way there is hard when I'm trying to listen to the music, navigate, and connect!
Second, I during that walking meditation, I also tried letting my hips go to lesser and greater degree, and I learned that that is another way of getting your center of gravity aligned: by letting the left hip out, you shift your center enough to be balanced!
How do the rest of you reach your balance?
(Third: focus on meditation is tough when it's an act I have spent a lot of time attaching other efforts to. Whew!)
I often lose balance after stepping onto my left foot, requiring a quick step onto the right to keep up. This is made much worse when I have a partner who has any tendency to lean/step that direction. Interestingly, I do not have any problem when stepping backward.
Last Friday morning, I was attending a meditation practice, and as it happened, the practice for the day was walking meditation. With 30 minutes of slowly walking back and forth, focusing on the physical sensations of walking, I discovered two things.
First, that pushing through the step is comfortable, and if I push my center of gravity all the way up over the ball of my foot, I have no balance problems with that step. I have tried to apply this while dancing, and am making some progress. Focusing on getting my balance all the way there is hard when I'm trying to listen to the music, navigate, and connect!
Second, I during that walking meditation, I also tried letting my hips go to lesser and greater degree, and I learned that that is another way of getting your center of gravity aligned: by letting the left hip out, you shift your center enough to be balanced!
How do the rest of you reach your balance?
(Third: focus on meditation is tough when it's an act I have spent a lot of time attaching other efforts to. Whew!)
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Frustration and Focus
Lately I have been a little unhappy with my dancing. It is rooted in a few things:
I don't think things have gotten quite that bad, luckily.
- A normal learning cycle -- learning comes with plateaus. They are valuable, because the plateau allows incorporation of previous. Although it may not feel like you are improving, you are actually moving from conscious to unconscious competence. Being in the plateau is always painful, though ... And the incorporation that happens often (for me) feels like regression, because you are slightly knocked out of comfortable old habits. I have been gradually improving my posture, for instance ... but my back actually complains more, since previously unused muscles are being asked to work.
- Knowing too much -- 'best dancing' is a moving target. As I improve my knowledge of technique, the music, my ability to connect with a follow, I am rewarded with ever more intricate details. Pursuing these more intricate targets requires much harder work for a finer-grained reward. Not only do I have to dance well, but I want my own style. I may be able to lead a step clearly, but is my balance absolutely perfect through every piece of it?
- Lack of time/dedication to practice -- Life is ever changing, of course, and I no longer have as many hours to spend at Milongas and Practicas. Without the near daily dancing I once did, I no longer have sufficient incidental practice time. I am also not making dedicated practice time or space. As a result, I am not improving as quickly as before. Lack of progress, and the knowledge that I lack enough dedication to practice, both frustrate me.
I don't think things have gotten quite that bad, luckily.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Finding the Embrace
I enjoyed reading Ampster's thoughts on developing his embrace, and it reminded me of my own process.
Entrega
Everyone travels their own path, and mine started with this. I have always been known as a good hugger*, and to apply my terrible spanish, it is due to Entrega: A good hug involves surrendering to your partner. Opening your heart, listening to their body, and embracing. I have understood this part of Tango, and people have always responded positively to me. Improving my connection to the music, to the love of the dance itself, has taken time, but understanding the connection with the other person has been there.
What made this difficult? Two things:
Therefore, I now almost always begin my dances in the same way. I offer my left hand, shoulder height, for the follow to take, and then move together for the embrace. I like to hold all the way across the back, just below the shoulders; this changes depending on the height of the follower, of course. I usually connect at the sternum or just below it; I have been losing a lot of weight recently, which has caused my point of connection to move upward!
This is the 'starting embrace', and I pause here, waiting for the music, or the right moment in it, to begin.
While paused, any adjustments necessary get made, and I like to close my eyes, to focus only on the follow. We are not moving, and may not have entered the pista yet, so I don't fear running into anything. I try to still my thoughts, until I can feel my heartbeat, and that of my follow. I try, for lack of a better description, to feel how warm the follow is, and wrap a little closer, or give more space, depending on it.
Having finished this, waited for the music, I now enter the dance. Usually with a side step. And now the real embrace is ready: somehow, despite all the above work, it is only after we take our first step in the dance that everything shakes out. We pause again, to adjust and re-affirm. Even though only one step, it lets us read whether the other person is in time with the music, and how responsive they are to a suggestion.
And then we go!
** Here is my advice for hugging:
Entrega
Everyone travels their own path, and mine started with this. I have always been known as a good hugger*, and to apply my terrible spanish, it is due to Entrega: A good hug involves surrendering to your partner. Opening your heart, listening to their body, and embracing. I have understood this part of Tango, and people have always responded positively to me. Improving my connection to the music, to the love of the dance itself, has taken time, but understanding the connection with the other person has been there.
What made this difficult? Two things:
- Surrendering to strangers is harder than surrendering to friends -- I still have to work on opening up with new partners.
- Confidence in my ability. I have been confident about hugging for a long time. Less so with Tango. It is very difficult for me to surrender when I don't feel confident in my self. I did not go social dancing for about a year after starting regular tango classes (maybe 2-3 times in that year), and this lack of confidence was reflected in a stiffer embrace, too much thought about my own motion, and not enough listening to my partner.
Beginning the Song
With the above in mind, I was doing my best at really communicating with my partner. Interpreting the music, suggesting it, listening for a response, and moving together. Then, I happened to take a workshop on starting and finishing songs, and it added a very important piece for me: the embrace (not only the physical part, but the connection between dancers) is the most important part of an enjoyable dance, at least for me. If this is so, I should spend as much time as necessary to establish a good connection!Therefore, I now almost always begin my dances in the same way. I offer my left hand, shoulder height, for the follow to take, and then move together for the embrace. I like to hold all the way across the back, just below the shoulders; this changes depending on the height of the follower, of course. I usually connect at the sternum or just below it; I have been losing a lot of weight recently, which has caused my point of connection to move upward!
This is the 'starting embrace', and I pause here, waiting for the music, or the right moment in it, to begin.
While paused, any adjustments necessary get made, and I like to close my eyes, to focus only on the follow. We are not moving, and may not have entered the pista yet, so I don't fear running into anything. I try to still my thoughts, until I can feel my heartbeat, and that of my follow. I try, for lack of a better description, to feel how warm the follow is, and wrap a little closer, or give more space, depending on it.
Having finished this, waited for the music, I now enter the dance. Usually with a side step. And now the real embrace is ready: somehow, despite all the above work, it is only after we take our first step in the dance that everything shakes out. We pause again, to adjust and re-affirm. Even though only one step, it lets us read whether the other person is in time with the music, and how responsive they are to a suggestion.
And then we go!
** Here is my advice for hugging:
- Connect with your whole front ('stomach', I often say, but it shouldn't be pushed out). Don't bend forward at the waist.
- Movement is not necessary -- no patting, shuffling, etc. A little rocking/rotation can be nice, but don't overdo it.
- You shouldn't squeeze them, but you should be able to feel the embrace. (Some people do like squeezing, but it imparts a different feel)
- Close your eyes.
- Hold the person until one of you has had enough.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Held Closely
It's still early, and the floor is empty. Lights are low, the space is warm, and we are dancing. With this song, and this partner, holding you close, carefully, listening to your every response is the dance. We are surrounded with a lush, melodic sound, lifting us around the floor on its crest.
What a great night! Ended perhaps early, but on a high note.
What a great night! Ended perhaps early, but on a high note.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Nuevo and Traditional Dancing
In many areas, I am fairly evenly split between encouraging innovation, and respecting tradition. To frame my thoughts, let me define the arguments for each:
I personally have a lot of fun in trying out new ideas. I do this usually while dancing (at a practica, and with a partner whom I know enjoys it). I don't usually take the further step of braking down the possible motion into it's components, or really understanding the body mechanics behind it, but if a motion seems particularly enjoyable (or, at least, possibly enjoyable after some more practice!) I will do so.
My actually dancing evolves only very slowly, though; I rarely incorporate things that I 'tinker' with into my dancing at a milonga. That is not to say there is no effect: my understanding of my body, how my lead is recieved, and in some cases my skill at conveying those signals are all improved by focusing on an unused aspect.
Plus, it is fun.
- Tradition is valuable because it is already the distilled result of much innovation. Collective wisdom has already emphasized the most useful and valuable aspects, and to ignore tradition is to throw away years of innovation.
- Innovation is valuable because there may exist a better way to do something. Although many things may have been tried before, circumstances change. Given my personal preferences, something which has traditionally not been enjoyable/possible, may be a huge improvement.
- As a group activity, doing unexpected or possibly dangerous things will forcibly effect those around me. Sudden ganchos, long corridas, or changes of direction can be confusing to dancers trying to navigate with or around me. Tradition plays an important role in creating the shared framework we use to dance with each other.
- On a smaller level, tradition improves connection with a (new) dance partner: we can focus on a communally chosen set of signals to use in our dance, and not have to interpret sudden new movements on the fly. Some might choose this as a challenge, but not everyone will.
- There is social pressure to 'fit in'. This goes both ways, of course: if the majority of a group favors a traditional style, those showing new movements will be frowned on, but the reverse is also true.
- Some change is necessary to keep a community alive.
I personally have a lot of fun in trying out new ideas. I do this usually while dancing (at a practica, and with a partner whom I know enjoys it). I don't usually take the further step of braking down the possible motion into it's components, or really understanding the body mechanics behind it, but if a motion seems particularly enjoyable (or, at least, possibly enjoyable after some more practice!) I will do so.
My actually dancing evolves only very slowly, though; I rarely incorporate things that I 'tinker' with into my dancing at a milonga. That is not to say there is no effect: my understanding of my body, how my lead is recieved, and in some cases my skill at conveying those signals are all improved by focusing on an unused aspect.
Plus, it is fun.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Dancing Style and Geography
I'm in Portland this weekend. Although I did not make it out dancing, I have in the past, and it always fascinates me that the dancing is so different between Portland and Seattle.
I should probably not be surprised, as most instructors I have learned from seem to work very hard to establish a unique style. It seems to follow from this that the 'local' dancing in a city would depend a lot on the local instructors. However ... there is a fair variety of approach, even in a relatively small place like Portland, and there is also a fair amount of exchange and travel between here and Seattle. And yet, it took me quite a while (if I have yet figured it out) how to give dancer's in Portland as nice a dance as I might in Seattle.
What is the difference? I probably don't do it justice, but mainly: Portland prefers a lighter approach to leading, with a very light embrace, and the follow free to turn inside it. Seattle seems to like a little more grounded-ness, with a firmer embrace. Not everyone is the same, and each city has follows who like either style, but that is broadly what I have encountered. My dancing has probably gradually shifted somewhere in the middle of those. I now try to feel out where my follow likes to be in that spectrum, and adjust my embrace and lead as appropriate.
I haven't danced much outside of these two cities, and I look forward to encountering new styles and habits!
I should probably not be surprised, as most instructors I have learned from seem to work very hard to establish a unique style. It seems to follow from this that the 'local' dancing in a city would depend a lot on the local instructors. However ... there is a fair variety of approach, even in a relatively small place like Portland, and there is also a fair amount of exchange and travel between here and Seattle. And yet, it took me quite a while (if I have yet figured it out) how to give dancer's in Portland as nice a dance as I might in Seattle.
What is the difference? I probably don't do it justice, but mainly: Portland prefers a lighter approach to leading, with a very light embrace, and the follow free to turn inside it. Seattle seems to like a little more grounded-ness, with a firmer embrace. Not everyone is the same, and each city has follows who like either style, but that is broadly what I have encountered. My dancing has probably gradually shifted somewhere in the middle of those. I now try to feel out where my follow likes to be in that spectrum, and adjust my embrace and lead as appropriate.
I haven't danced much outside of these two cities, and I look forward to encountering new styles and habits!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Practicing at Practicas
Last night, I participated in a discussion about the Seattle tango community: where it is at; where it might be headed; where it should be headed.
Among many interesting topics and points of view, we talked about the problem of allowing for practice time. Of course, solo time is available, but generally, you may not have a floor that is good for it, or a partner to dance with, or a music system sufficient to bring across all the intricacy in the music.
Thus, a practica.
However, at least in seattle, practica's are treated as social dances instead of practice time. There is some shading of practice: people will stop and work on steps together, there may be no cortinas between tandas, and people are a little dressed down. Mostly, though, people will dance with a person, in the round, for 4 or 5 songs, thank each other, and then go look for the next social dance.
So how to run a practica that allows for and encourages a teaching atmosphere?
Among many interesting topics and points of view, we talked about the problem of allowing for practice time. Of course, solo time is available, but generally, you may not have a floor that is good for it, or a partner to dance with, or a music system sufficient to bring across all the intricacy in the music.
Thus, a practica.
However, at least in seattle, practica's are treated as social dances instead of practice time. There is some shading of practice: people will stop and work on steps together, there may be no cortinas between tandas, and people are a little dressed down. Mostly, though, people will dance with a person, in the round, for 4 or 5 songs, thank each other, and then go look for the next social dance.
So how to run a practica that allows for and encourages a teaching atmosphere?
- Set it up with that expectation (the goal of this practica is for experienced dancers to work with newer dancers)
- Adjust incentives to encourage this: free for experienced dancers, not-free for new ones (or any other incentive scheme one could dream up. Perhaps sign-ups for the 'experienced dancers' list? With some sort of reward/ranking scheme to determine if/when they get to sign up again?)
- Make dancing the room impossible -- break it up into 2 or more small spaces, with plenty of room for dancing in place, working out a movement, thinking about the music, but not to be swept into a dance around the room when you hear your favorite Canaro song. (2 spaces will turn into one dance, and one practice, possibly)
- The music can't be too good. The songs chosen can all be good, of course, but the flow of music can not encourage runs of dancing
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